


vascularized flames

by enigmaticNeurologist



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Dissociation?, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Stream of Consciousness-ish, funky writing style, time in the asylum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 13:24:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20706725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticNeurologist/pseuds/enigmaticNeurologist
Summary: a snippet of caleb's head space in the asylum.





	vascularized flames

**Author's Note:**

> aaaand you get a vent fic and you get a vent fic
> 
> this thing is unedited and makes -2% sense but idk we thrivin

Caleb's hands twisted into his hair, back pressed into the corner of the room, the cell. The walls were cold. Real. Pressure on his shoulders. Comfort flared for a moment before he jerked away from the contact. Pressure like someone else. Someone there. He couldn't match with someone there right now. No one could be there. 

Roaring began to build in his ears. The rush of blood, like waves, like flames. The world contracted. No more room, only his skin crawling across his body and the never-ending cyclical flare of fire in his veins. 

Pulses, constant. One two three four, a flex of his forearm and the harsh press of fingernails to skin, in skin. Centering for a moment. Handfuls of skin, of hair, of anything. The body was too big and too small all at once and everything felt _wrong_. He shoved himself back into the corner of the wall, hands arms locked tightly around the pair of knees tucked to his chest. Something, anything, to keep this mess of a being together. 

His breath stopped listening to him a while ago. The only thing it was able to hear was the roaring. It started to border on comforting, that sound. It muffled the world outside, narrowed the cell down to a more concrete space. A space that was small, manageable, and one that was getting progressively and insistently warmer. 

Caleb's entire body twitched violently as he felt the heat across his skin, under it, swirl and fight him. 

Swirling.

Spiraling. 

Up. 

It's so fucking hot and he can only see red and it might be his hands pressed to his eyes but the harder he presses the more lights behind his eyelids spark. At the first burst of light, he rips his hands from his face and smashes his palms onto the ground. Eyelids shut tight, his breath grinds to a halt and then starts back up again twice the speed of before. 

A sound begins to spiral up through the rushing, a whining one.

Someone in distress, someone wanting to scream but being unable to.

Screaming.

So much fucking screaming.

Caleb's head throbs and he draws a ragged breath. Then another. 

As his breaths begin to slow, the vision of the cell block in front of him becomes an afterthought. Eyes open, seeing but unseeing. 

Surroundings are disregarded. His mind's eye is still sharp though. Not sharp, burning. 

Bright. 

Everything is so bright. And he just watches. 


End file.
